The Woman and The Waterfall
by MethuselahPixie
Summary: Bran is supposedly having girl trouble at school, but when he's shoved off a waterfall all alone at night, suspicions are aroused. Will is worried. But discovering who his friend is wandering about with and crushing on might not be too easy... plz r
1. Chapter 1 through 5

Ok, I'm crazy. Just a pre-warning. xD~!!

Some things may not be exact, but I tried my best, so try to brave the spelling errors xD!!! Another thing, this isn't really based back where the books were. I fast-forwarded them into modern times to give a better picture, but pretty much nothing has changed. Thanks~

Any more clarification nessisary?

Yay, time to _START!!!_

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**Chapter 1**

!!!~~~The Beginning~~~!!!

The moor was dark at this time of night, with leafless trees creaking in the high winds. Moans and groans from their protesting roots filled the air, a gate to the Stanton farm in sight around the corner. The sky was a blanket of grey clouds pouring rain over the wet hills and mountains. Out here in Wales, things take you be surprise sometimes. Whether it the weather, shadows thrown at you, or just something you'd never think happen, it hits you sooner or later, but you never truly get used to it.

For this tale, this might hit anyone just as hard, if not harder, then the dark rising over the southern UK.

Passed the gates made of rusting black steel and following the winding dirt path along the grassy plains stretching the 200 acres of land Will Stanton's aunt and uncle owned, there was a farmhouse with a sagging porch with a dip-in roof made of old oak. The steps were still stead fast against age, it's timeless enemy, and the storm door was the newest thing in sight around the old two-story house; leading passed a heavy wooden door into the warm cabin perched on the closest hill to the entrance. Still walking down the path, about two miles, you'll come across a cabin where Bran Davies and his father lived as farm hands to the old couple and their nephew. That's where our story begins.

"...'Cause nobody wants to go it on their own, everyone wants to know their not alone..." Echoed Nickleback's song 'Gotta Be Somebody' from the teenage Welsh boy's small black radio as he sat at his desk in the small room, pencil poised above paper as if tending to write, but no words flowed freely. Bran's mind was muddled with many things to put down, so many ideas he knew would only make things worse, he gave out a frustrated shout and threw the thing down, rising from his chair with a glance at the clock on the wall striking midday this Saturday. He tied on his knee-high black biker boots he occasionally wore for outings and changed into an under armour shirt streaked midnight black that hugged his thin torso down to his skinny waist, the neck dipping down to just below his collar bone, and tied a black stud belt around dark, tight jeans. Sliding on his sunglasses, he grabbed his waterproof black VURT jacket with swirling skulls all along the front and back and flung open the door, running right into his adopted father. He had his hand poised as if about to knock, and the man furrowed his brow at his son, "Bran, 's everythin' alright'?" The fourteen-year-old shook his pure white head, looking off to the side, "Yea, Da, just going to visi' Will," he mumbled, tugging on the slim-fit jacket. Mr. Davis watched the boy zip up the goth thing up his chin with distaste, but decided to let it slide, "Why? It's rainin' like heck ou' there, son." Bran felt like a soda can bottled up inside, ready to burst, but he kept it in and glanced up at him as he pulled on his black gloves for warmth, "I, ah, jus' need to ask him somethin'. I'll be back soon." Mr. Davis stepped out of the way as the teenager strode hurriedly out into the hall and out the front door, crestfallen. What was so wrong with the boy, he wouldn't even tell his father?

**Chapter 2**

!!!~~~Surprise!~~~!!!

Will Stanton stood at his window, watching the rain fall with contentment gleaming in his eyes as he slacked relaxingly against it's wooden frame. He folded his arms over each other with a sigh and smiled, glancing back at his quiet bed room. The dresser was splattered with moving shadows as the droplets ran down the glass pane, the bookshelf filled with volumes of Artemis Fowl, Pendragon and Twilightcalmly sitting in the soft light of the lanturn on his nightstand. The Dark hadn't sprung up since the others lost their memories, and Will was enjoying his new life, with a few more inches on his height, he was as tall as Bran now, and his mind was slowly going back to being the boy he was on that Midwinter's day three years ago. His sea-green eyes wandered across the walls plastered with posters of singers and musicans Will had collected over the school year at local stands and concerts he had attended. Even a play called 'Noises Off' was on a poster on his door. The teen chuckled to himself. Sardines, sardines.

He jumped three feet in the air as a figure popped up in the window, "AH!" Will fell back onto his backside and stared wide-eyed at the dark hand reaching for the hing, fearing the worst - then he recognized the crouched form of his friend Bran perched on the window edge, as thin as it was, on the second story. He scrambled up, opening the window for his friend, and they toppled over one another, letting the weather in with him. Bran rolled off away from Will and stood quickly, and with a distinct swiftness, threw the window closed and locked it, panting. Will was shaking from head to toe from shock of being wet and cold all of a sudden as he struggled to control his breathing, "What the _Hell_are you doing, Bran?!" The Welsh boy sank down beside him with a noise that sounded like half-groan half-apologetic grunt and stared at the floor, flicking his damp bangs over his eyes. Will looked at him breath returning to normal, "What's the matter? Usually you would've laughed at me." Bran rubbed water from behind his glasses, and they fell off, bouncing away from him to Will's feet as his great yellow eyes flecked with gold closed tightly, quickly, face closed up the same way. No smile nor frown adorned his lips, nose wrinkled as if trying to avoid saying something as he tried to clear his vision. Will startled. His friend looked like he had just been thrown out of his house and had nowhere to go. Just been dumped by a girlfriend. Just found out a secret he didn't want to know. He shifted to his knees beside his friend, and a hand hovered on his shoulder, eyes worried and sunglasses in his gentle grasp, "Bran?"

Opening his eyes, Bran blinked several times and caught Will's stare, eyes darting away to the wet floorboards, embarrassed, "Sorry," he muttered, accepting his glasses back on and getting up, "I'll get some towels..." He swaggered out of the room. Will let him. He knew where the bathroom was. Rising himself, he looked down at his wet shirt with a frown. He wandered over to his dresser and pulled open a drawer, pulling out a white night shirt with slender fingers and set it on his bed, unbuttoning his damp work shirt, "Bah, it needed a wash anyway." He muttered to no one in particular, tossing the old shirt aside as Bran came back in, looking a bit dryer but still unhappily strange, "You - eh - alrigh', Will? I'm sorry I scared yo' like tha'..."

Will shrugged on the new shirt and brushed off his chest, lint falling to the warm carpet, covered in puddles now being mopped up by Bran, "Not a'tall, you just gave me a good shock. You need one 'o those every now and then." He kneeled beside him and began to help, slipping one of the towels from the short stack Bran had brought, "What's up with the entrance? Didn't feel like using the door, instead of playing James Bond?" He joked lightly. Bran's chin dipped lower to his chest, making his hair fall around his pale face, and Will was afraid he'd hurt his feelings as he hurridly finished up and gathered the wet towels, "Sorry, I..." he trailed off as Will picked up the last few, leading him to the laundry hamper, "I was wandering aroun' th' farm when I saw your ligh' in th' window. Everything after that," he slumped to a dry part of the carpet in Will's room as his host came back in and shut the door, "it's all a blur." Will looked at him quizzically, sitting in front of him, "What is it you were looking for?" Bran jerked his head up in confusion, "L-Looking for?" Will nodded, studying him, "Yeah. You looked distracted. Kinda lost. Anything the matter?" Bran gripped his ankles where they crossed in his indian-style position, hunching his shoulders a bit and looking downward again, "Well, I guess..."

**Chapter 3**

!!!~~~A Crush?! On Who?!~~~!!!

He said quietly, shyly, which was unusual of him, "I... was writing a, uh... a letter... a note... to a friend." Will pulled one of his knees to his chest, resting a hand on it and nodding, "Who?" Bran flushed, "A-A girl," he blurted, "a-at school." Will fell backwards in shock, rocking once, twice, on his back before swinging back into a sitting position and grinning broadly at him, "A girl? Bran old friend, you've been holding back on me! Tell me, what's her name?" He thrust his face at the boy, making him lean back, even more flustered, "I-I, uh, I can't tell you." Said the Raven Boy simply. Will pouted playfully, "Alright then, what were you writing to her?" Bran took a deep breath, let it out, and tipped his chin up a notch, "A sort of, question, abou'..." he mumbled something after that and Will's grin widened, "A love note, oh, Branny boy's got a lover! Now you've got to tell me who the lucky maiden is!" Bran turned scarlet, "S-She's no' my lover, Will! I jus'... She jus'... Eh..." He grasped for words helplessly, distractedly twiddling his thumbs on his boots and gazing at the fuzz decorating the ground. Will shook his head quickly, "Bran, it's a girl. You must have a bit of a crush on her, eh? Come off it, you can tell me!" Bran moaned, "She's jus' a girl from school, and I was going to ask her ou' on a date this year, so I was practicing what I woul' say, and I'm a bi'... as yo' said... lost."

Will thought for a minute, then leaped from the floor, giving Bran a start, and grabbed a pencil and pen, scribbling, "Well, don't be too forward with her... Just sort of set up a romantic place, like anywhere alone... A closet, for sure..." "Will!" Cried Bran. Will chuckled, "Just pulling your leg, Bran. Maybe compliment her a bit before asking her to join you wherever 'tis you tend to ask her... don't make it too public, so if she says no, no one'll hear," he nudged Bran as he hung his head, "not that she will, with a lad like you, mind me, just a bit on the safer side, is all. Have a gift for her... maybe... aha! A flower, my good man, perfect!" Bran had been staring at the picture Will had taken of the two of them down by the waterfall surrounded by daisies and tulips on that warm summer morning three years back, and he now sighed, shaking his head, "What, are yo' 'the expert' all of a sudden?" Will grinned again, "I am now! Be sure to ask politely, like, 'Would you accompany me'... or 'How about we meet here...?' Make sure to add in the time... Oh! And the place, too, the pond would be your best bet... And... that should be all of it!" He handed Bran the paragraph, "Keep it safe, it'll be your _bible_until this all gets over with." Bran laughed nervously, "Alrigh'. Thanks, Will, I think I'll take my leave," he glanced out the window streaked with drying rain, "since th' rain's stopped, this James Bond'll have an easier time climbin' down you' drain pipe." They laughed, the mood much lighter now, and both stood up. Bran opened the window and flung one leg over outside, "Thanks, Will. Yo' saved me big this time." Will shrugged with a smile, nodding out to the sun, "Good luck, Romeo." Bran grinned at him before disappearing out into the sunshine warming the still wet spots on Will's carpet, "Later, love doctor!"

With him gone, Will closed the window and was headed to his closet when the door opened and Will's uncle poked his head in, "Is anyone in here?" He asked, puzzled, but soon dropped that subject, "Bran's father is worried about him, and he's wondering if you've seen his boy?" Will turned to gaze out the window, "No, I haven't seen him," there was a slight knowing twinkle in his eyes as he smiled at his uncle, "but I bet he'll be home soon. He doesn't like to be out in this weather - alone."

**Chapter 4**

!!!~~~Injury~~~!!!

Later that night Will sat on his bed reading Ink Deathwhen his aunt knocked on his door, "Will, sweety, you friend Bran's in a bit of trouble, and your uncle was wondering if you'd like to see him at the hospital?" Will's eyes widened and he leapt from bed, tieing on his shoes and grabbing his jacket, "Of course! What happened?" His aunt caught his elbow as he did a nose-dive down the steps, saving him a black eye, "He fell from somewhere and cracked a rib, and came home limping. Told his father he was fine and crashed in bed. When he went in to check on him, he was snarling like anything, but got him to the doctor. Says he's fast asleep now." Will felt a pang of guilt, meeting his uncle on the porch in the drizzle, shaking his head, "I bet he suffered the whole time without a word, that stubborn, bull-headed - " His uncle set a hand on his shoulder, "I know you're worried, Will, so let's go."

They rode into town and Will knocked on the doctor's door with his uncle in his wake, "Dr. Armstrong?" The door opened and a tired-looking man smiled wearily at them, pale face wrinkled with dark bags under each eye, "Ah, young Will and Mr. Stanton. Come in, come in," They followed him inside, and Will helped his uncle hang their jackets up, "Is Bran alright?" He asked worriedly as they strode into the infirmary. The doctor handed them each a cup of coco from his small kitchen, "Ah, he was a bi' of trouble gettin' down, but he'll be fine in day o' two. Maybe even by tomorrow he'll be up an' abou'." Will walked over to his friend's bed, setting his cup aside. Bran was propped up among many pillows clean from the wash closet and covered up to his neck in blankets, one arm draped across his bandaged chest, bare to the crisp air around him and head lolled to the side in contented sleep. His face was smoothed of worries and troubles, white hair askew in all angles, from the struggle, no doubt. Will smiled in spite of himself, shoving his hands into his deep pockets. Bran's shoulders rose and fell with gentle breath in the thin hospital bed caressed by many overhead lights in the low ceiling, oblivious of the nuisance he had caused with dreamless rest. Will could almost see the colors and words dancing before his mind's eye as he watched his closest friend and his own eyes flickered. He _could_ see what Bran was dreaming! The impression of a cheery round face from three years ago flashed the largest - Will when he was younger! And there was his home cottage flushed in a red light, then Bran, none too long ago, struggling up the porch steps. Will homed in to these thoughts to see them clearer.

Bran's main thought was,_ 'I'm no' hurt. I'm no' hurt. I'm no' hurt... I'm fine...' _as he limped into his bedroom in the dark. Will thought it might've been comfort for the pain he felt instead of admitting he needed help. _'It was no'! I'm no' hurt...' _Will startled, thinking back, _'But you broke your rib, Bran!' _A pause. The pictures became more clear. It was Bran sitting in the darkness, knees bent on either side of him and head hung low. He was a silhouette of his old self, with nothing of a white outline glowing in the night-time like area, _'I didn't mean to... I was... just...' _Will almost stepped forward for real, _'It's alright! We were just worried is all. Be more careful, and no more James Bond, ok?' _Bran jerked his head up, eyes glowing white gold in shock, _'You... James Bond? Will?! Is tha' you?' _Will spoke calmly, willing Bran to focus on something else, _'Heal... sleep... I'll be with you soon...' _And he cut the connection_, _leaving the Welsh boy to his fantasies.

**Chapter 5**

!!!~~~Stupor~~~!!!

"Will?" A hand on his shoulder, snapping his trance, "You ok? I see you haven't moved since I left." Will glanced over at his uncle woridly frowning at him, grinning like a boy, "I'm fine, just dazed." Before his unclecould open his mouth, Will swept away to a chair close to the hospital bed, sitting lightly and examining his friend, "He really has a hard head, doesn't he?" He chuckled. Mr. Stanton sat beside him, nodding, "Yes, that boy always was tough. From whatever height it seemed he's fallen from, he should've broken a few more things. But no, he's just battered a bit." Will reached a hand out breifly, touching Bran's cold arm with warm fingertips, "Yeah." He stared at him, mouse-brown hair swishing about his pale face, so white to his black high-collar jacket as it rustled around his waist, leaning forward without knowing it. His uncle had turned to look as the doctor shuffled from behind the curtain, "It's almost midnight, Will, would you like to go home?" "Will?" Came a groggy voice from behind them. Both adults jerked around to see Bran sitting up with the blankets bunched around him, a hand over his eye and the other empty and staring across the room at nothing. Or maybe something far away. "Bran?" The English boy had shifted to sitting on the bed beside his friend with knowing eyes and tapped his shoulder, smiling warmly, "I'm here."

Bran's eye widened and he dropped his hand, jerking around to see him sitting beside him, "Will," he blurted, "I fell! No' from your balcony, bu' from the rocks at th' waterfall! I was going t' go straigh' home, bu' I - ah - I don' know... I go' distracted! And I was lookin at the water, then I slipped, an'..." he trailed off, as if lost the energy to speak and slumped into Will's arms, "Bran, calm down, it's alright," soothed the boy, waking him with kind words, "Slowly now, what happened at the waterfall?" Bran lifted his heavy head with effort, looking up at him with eyes void of irises, just their golden color, "I felt... hands. On my shoulders. Firs' they were jus' hovering, fingers tapping, tapping, my sleeves... an'..." he blinked, "Then I go' this horrible _push_an' a sensation of fallin' an' hit th' bottom of th' shallow pool - hard." Will narrowed his blue-green eyes, "Push? From who?" Bran's eyes went wild, shoulders shaking as he stared back at Will, "I don' know! She jus' shoved me, she wouldn' even le' me turn aroun'!" He cried. Will shook his head and he lifted his fingers in front of Bran's face, snapping, making it echo throughout the almost empty infirmary, "Bran?" He asked again, with more strain then before. Bran blinked several times in confusion, irises back and dilated from the sudden lights. He covered his eyes with his hands hurriedly, recovering from the shock, "Will? Is tha' you?" He murmured, squinting at his friend, "Thank heavens. I though' you were my Da. He's goin' t' kill me..." Will nodded, solemnly, as if still thinking, and studied him, "What were you just doing, Bran?"

Bran looked at him, then glanced down at himself, "Well, sleeping uprigh', by th' looks of i'." He replied, still muttering. Will's uncle padded over with Dr. Armstrong and they asked Bran a few questions Will didn't catch in Welsh. Bran acted as if they were troubling and proding him, so Will gave them a look that read, _'Shut it, he's not recovered yet.' _And, surprisingly, they did. Bran ran a hand through his snowy white hair, sniffing a bit, "Will, how did I ge' here?" He asked randomly. Will startled, "Your father brought you. You were awake, then, weren't you?" Bran turned to face him, face blank, and shook his head 'no.' Will blinked at him, "But he said you came home madder then Hell and shouted at him alot. Then he told us you stormed into your room and passed out. It's a good thing you didn't throw a fit comin' here, don't you remember?" Bran scratched his head, "Ah, no, I don' think I'd forge' somethin' like tha'." Will furrowed his brow, "And... you're alright now?" Bran glanced down at his chest, "Ya, think so. Just a bit banged up now. And worried." Will looked at him, setting a hand on his shoulder, "Bran, I think something possessed you." Bran laughed. Literally._ Laughed_. "Will, I jus' have a touch o' memory loss, 'tis nothin'." Will stared him down seriously, "I'm dead serious, Bran," he whispered as the doctor and Mr. Stanton neared, "You wouldn't forget something like that, like you said."


	2. Chapter 6

_Hey! Thanks for reading my first chapter, did you like it?? I hope it wasn't too bad~ _

_Enjoy this new chapter!! xDD_

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**Chapter 6**

!!!~~Hywel Dda~~~!!!

Dr. Armstrong smiled down at the boys, "Will, time for you to go home. I don' think your aunt will be too happy about us letting you stay up so late, and Bran needs more rest." "Wot?" Bran asked in a robotic voice, "More res'? I feel like I've slept fo' days!" The doctor chuckled along with Will's uncle, "Trust me, young Bran, when your head hits that pillow, you'll be out like a light. Your father is out in the waiting room and he wishes to speak with yo' alone, so come now, lets let them talk." Will waved as they left out the door to the other room, "I'll be along," he called, turning back to Bran, "Try to remember. I'll be back as soon as I wake." Bran leaned forward and reached out a hand as Will stood to go, "Wai'! I - ah!" He winced painfully as his chest throbbed from the sudden movement, closing his eyes tightly. Will hurried back to his side, worridly touching his arm, "Bran, take it easy, alright?" The Welsh boy squinted up at him with one eye, a cocky smile on his face, "Eh, I'll be fine, jus'..." his smile faded, irises and voice following suit, "Watch ou'. She's still ou' there," His voice was hollow, and Will snapped his fingers before Bran's face once more, the boy smiling up at him once more, "See yo', Will." Will nodded distractedly, taking a few steps backwards and beggining out of the room. "Sleep well," said the Old One. He stopped at the door, hovering, looking back at Bran cracking his stiff shoulders, casting a spell with mumbled old speech, _"Keep this one safe and place a barrier about his conciousness," _he said, eyes flashing as he turned the doorknob, _"So that the Dark may not enter any longer." _Then he glided out into the hall and was gone.

Will didn't sleep at all that night. Streaks from the previous rain stained his window as he stared out it from his bed, under mountinous covers and head swimming with frightening thoughts as his eyes tightened. He got up finally about five, four hours after he had seen Bran, and got redressed. He brushed his hair out quickly and pinned a Welsh blessing pin to his jacket before sneaking downstairs and out the front door. The sky was dark with heavy clouds, so barely any light lit the young english boy's path in the wee hours of the morning as he glided over the dark rocks and portholes made by sheep carts rolling along the roads over many many years. There was a distinct silence settled over everything, as if the animals were afraid to wake up, and instead rolled over and curled up into slumber once more. Will set one foot on a tall boulder, gazing around over it at the perfectly still forest.

Something was wrong.

Leaping over the rock, he sped off down the path through the trees of the eerie woods to the waterfall, haulting abruptly on the edge of the bottom pond pooling out water poured from above and out in a small river to the left. Flowers blossomed around it's edge and around the lilly pads about a pile of newly fallen rocks which Will assumed was where Bran fell and turned his head around to gaze over at the river. The water bubbled like normal, but with a muffling sort of feeling around all the noisier sounds, terriffied to attract something's attention. Will's eyes tightened as he wandered around the right side of the pool and began climbing the rocks to reach the top, grass under his fingers holding steady against his slim weight and boots pressing cautiously against their foot holds. Thrusting his arms upward, he caught the end of the top boulder and hauled himself up, brushing off his black tunic with thoughtful brush stroaks.

_"Whhsssp, whhsssp... whhsssp, whhsssp..." _Will froze on the water fall's edge. _'Show yourself,'_ he called out in Old One's tounge, mouth twisting and hands clenched at his sides, mouse brown hair swishing in the strange, wavering breeze. _"... who are you, child?" _Will's eyes darted left and right, but he could sense nothing, _'An Old One. A guider. A light. And you, hag?' "Ooooohhh... I am..."_ a breath could be heard, and Will could have sworn there had been hair on his shoulder much longer then his own, _ "Insomnia... the love of... __Hywel Dda..."_The voice moaned, vanishing completely as the forest came back to life, animals jumping about and birds singing in the tree tops. Will stood, shaken, staring down into the depths of the pond coated in cold sweat. This was no ordinary spirit.


	3. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

!!!~~~Abduction ~~~!!!

Bran sits up in the hospital bed the next morning reading The Other Side of the Island, white hair askew and eyes darting quickly across the page as he absorbed every word of the book. The sun is peeking through the windows surrounding the small room and the linoleum floors are polished to shine; leaving the rest of the bland room much to be desired. The wooden cabinets sit quietly, unused, since the doctor's departure to the market this morning and alone in the centre of the bare wall by the door.

Bran finishes the last chapter and brushes away his bangs with slender hands, glancing about and wincing at the brightness reflecting off the floor and into sensitive gold eyes. Setting the book aside, he picks up his sunglasses, cleaning them before sliding them on. Hands reaching up to attempt fixing his hair as he tries to think of something else to do. It had been a short night for him, sleeping and all, so now he was restless sitting here doing nothing in the middle of the day when there was work his father needed help with back at the home farm.

He gave up on his mop of hair and tested his strength by picking up the vase on his bedside. It gave little weight, but he got a pretty good idea on how not to get hurt again. No more heavy equipment for awhile. Plowing is out of the question. Vacuuming might not be so bad, after a bit. Bran groaned. He would be useless to his farm until he healed correctly. _Healed, but from what?_ He asked himself, _I don't remember what happened. I fell, and then… nothing. _Lifting his head from staring at his lap, he gazed longingly out the window at the high sun and the long moor. It called to him. His home was here, out in the countryside.

Bran startled. Why had he come across such a thought? Of course his home was here, where else could it be? _I remember…_ A pain in his head doubled him over in bed, grunting with the effort of keeping his screams under check. _A sword; beautiful, with a blue flame and glowing sheath. A man… close to my heart, but locked away in the back of my mind! _ Searing agony shook his body, threw off his glasses as it flung his head to the side, struggling desperately to shake it off. _Words I can't understand in another language, monsters, the Mari Lewd, bones dancing in a horse's skeleton wrapped in blood-red ribbon streaming from its rib cage charging me and another, maybe it was Will-_

"Aaaaaahh!"

Bran cried out, clutching his temples in fear as the darkness rushed into his thoughts, clouding his judgment and reaching greedily down into his deepest desires, clawing their way under his control. Blackness, hunger, power, tempted him toward it, but he shoved it away with the last of his strength and crumpled to the cold floor in a ball, gone into mental shock.

A tall, dark figure appeared over the boy, sprawled on the floor as cold and limp as death and swept him into his arms, gliding away with the white, the boy's thin hands hanging with gracefully curled fingers over the hostile grip.


End file.
